A
House is not a Home
The
ottoman scoots closer
Reports
of the latest crises
Striate
the living walls
Dissolve
to a salad of
Brownian
spots
A
signal the house needs food
I
don't move
The
ottoman quivers, shakes
Again,
barks a warning.
Fire
blossoms everywhere
Rampaging
robots march with snapping claws
And
crimson beams of fire
This
is not real, but it's certainly distracting
It'll
keep up till I do my duty.
I
lever myself up
Stumble
to the pantry
"I'm
coming, I'm coming" I call
Uh
oh
The
food bag is empty
What
else do I have?
The
fridge flashes a low-food warning
I
feel like Old Mother Hubbard
Except
my dog IS my cupboard
Grab
my keys and go to the door
But
it stays shut.
"The
grocery store! You want Purina All-House™?"
Nothing
moves.
"And
Home Treats™! Condo flavor!"
The
door slides open.
When
I get back I'll find out
What
has been destroyed
And
what has not.
End
Publ. Star*line
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